


and many more

by likeoatmeal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Families of Choice, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 05:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5572657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeoatmeal/pseuds/likeoatmeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finn was born. That happened on a specific date on some planet in the galaxy. But anyone who might have felt a need to preserve which day in particular are so irrevocably lost to him he has no way of knowing it. </p>
<p>(Finn, Rey, Poe, and birthdays)</p>
            </blockquote>





	and many more

Roughly ninety-three days after Finn wakes and never leaves he walks into the mess to the sight of people clustered around the table he normally shares with Poe. It isn’t unusual, it seems like there are usually half a dozen people orbiting around Poe at any given time, so Finn collects a bowl of noodles for himself before making his way over. 

When he gets there Pava’s hand is on the back of Poe’s head and Finn rushes forward, worry spiking in his belly as Pava makes to slam Poe’s head down on the table top. Except Poe’s laughing and when he resurfaces there’s something smeared across his face which he licks at with messy swipes of his tongue.

“That’s for many more, Boss.” Pava says, smiling mischievously before she licks at her fingers, which are dotted with whatever it is currently covering Poe’s face. 

“Finn!” Poe beams at him from across the table when he notices him staring, “Sorry, you missed the show.” 

Finn chuckles, but doesn’t move any closer. “I think you’re still wearing most of it.” 

Poe shrugs amiably, motions Finn over with gestures at the empty space besides him previous occupied by Pava. The crowd begins to thin, people leaving with claps to Poe’s back and more well wishes until it’s just Finn and Poe at the table. Up close Poe smells sweet, like burnt sugar and a faraway memory Finn doesn’t think is more than a dream most days, and he offers Finn a small bowl of something creamy and rich. It might be the best thing Finn’s eaten to date. 

“Glad you like it, Jess called in a lot of favors to get it.” Poe says, digging his own spoon in besides Finn’s. “Pretty hard to get all the ingredients for a proper custard at this end of the galaxy.”

Finn’s spoon stalls midair, poised over the rim of the bowl. “If it’s hard to get why’d she’d stick your face in it?” He asks. Poe still has some of it on his cheek, where his tongue couldn’t reach. 

Poe laughs, licking at the side of his mouth again. “Um, it’s tradition on her world. Give someone a treat and um, a bit of a trick too, it, um,” Poe stops, sucks his lip into his mouth for a brief second before he continues. He does that sometimes when he’s trying to think of the right words to say. Finn thinks it’s unfairly cute, “Some worlds commemorate the days people were born—”

“Poe I know what a birthday is.” Well. Lolbo, who kept Finn company in the med bay, had briefed him on the whole idea when Finn hadn’t known what to answer for date of birth in his records.

Poe stops short, color rising in his face. That’s a new development. “Oh. Yeah. Right. I mean. Yeah—”

“And today’s yours.” Finn adds for good measure, already taking note of the day so that he’ll remember its significance. 

Poe rubs the back of his hand across his nose. “Yeah. It is.” Finn watches his grin start at the center of his mouth and work its way outward until it’s lifting the corners of his mouth.

-

He doesn’t mean to dwell on it. But it keeps sneaking up on him throughout the day, while he’s suggesting weapon upgrades based on the weaknesses he remembers from his training with the First Order and while he’s grabbing a bite to eat in one of the smaller mess halls. It distracts him while he’s sparring with Rey, lands him flat on his back staring down the length of her staff. 

Rey offers him a hand up, hoists him to his feet. “You have something on your mind.” She says and Finn wonders how much of that is the Force and how much of it she read in his earlier performance. Finn shrugs, tries to feign easiness that is absolutely wasted given that Rey can read people like star maps, is capable of finding trails to truths Finn doesn’t even know he’s holding until she’s found them.

“Did you know today was Poe’s birthday?” Finn asks, redistributing his weight out of the neat composure that feels too much like standing at attention.

Rey’s brow furrows as she waits for him to continue. Oh. It figures a junk yard like Jakku wouldn’t do something as unpractical as commemorating a date of birth. “So that’s a no.”

He explains the basic concept as best he can, a mix of Loblo’s explanation and Poe’s aborted explanation from this morning. Rey raises an eyebrow. “That’s odd, celebrating something you played no part in. Wouldn’t it make more sense to celebrate your mother? Since she did the work?” 

Finn shrugs.

“I’m not really sure the celebrating is mandatory. From what I understand it varies from planet to planet.”

Rey nods, “Oh. Do you have one?”

Finn is quiet for a moment. He was born. That happened on a specific date on some planet in the galaxy. But any people who might have felt a need to preserve which one in particular are so irrevocably lost to him he has no way of knowing. The First Order kept its soldiers healthy and hale but their concern was the cohesion of the unit, its ability to function as a unified weapon against an enemy. Something as trivial and individual as a date of birth was probably considered irreverent even in the massive data banks of information the First Order kept on them. “No.” He answers and Rey nods again, thoughtful, though there’s sadness there too, the sort of fragile longing she so rarely displays but that Finn can recognize in her unguarded moments. “Me neither.” She says, hesitating briefly before adding, “I was waiting for 5, 486 days, but that’s only counting from when I thought to start to keeping track. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Finn reaches for her hand slowly, makes sure to telegraph his intentions before taking Rey’s hand in his own. He’s learned this too since seeing her in the market that day, learned that while people can touch out here that doesn’t mean they always want to. Rey doesn’t pull her hand away when his fingers slide across her palm, which is rougher than his, cracked and dried even now, months away from the grit and sun of Jakku. 

“It means something.” He says. Rey squeezes his hand. 

-

They eat dinner with Poe. There are no more theatrics at this meal though a few more soldiers straggle by to wish him well and Finn thinks it’s weird, to wait until a specific day to wish someone good health and so on when there’s nothing stopping you from doing it any other day of the year. 

Poe and Rey dominate the conversation with talk of upgrades for the Falcon, asking Finn’s opinion every now and then though the truth is Finn is pretty much hopeless when it comes to mechanics. 

They clear their trays slowly, unrushed for now. Rey sops every last drop of stew from the plate with the crust of her bread, and there’s a moments twitch to her jaw when she glances down at the remnants of stew still evident on Finn’s. Poe glances at him, carries the conversation on smoothly, and the moment passes over them, lost in a steady stream of chatter Finn is more than happy to listen to. 

It had been the best surprise he could have woken to, Poe and Rey talking quietly at his bedside, Rey and Poe talking still, forging a friendship of their own apart from him.

Finn doesn’t know if there’s any one out there in the universe who misses him—or misses the person he was once, who he might have become if the First Order hadn’t taken him—but he’s a person now, with people of his own, people for him to take care of, who look out for him too. 

It’s more than he ever thought he’d have.

-

“We should have a birthday.” Rey says without any type of lead up when Finn joins her on the training field a few days later. 

“What?”

“A birthday. We should have one don’t you think.” Rey says it the same way she explains how an engine works, makes it hard for Finn to think of any reason they shouldn’t.

“Okay.” He says instead, “Yeah, we should.”

-

Poe doesn’t laugh. 

Finn isn’t sure why he thought Poe would. Poe laughs often and loudly but not at them, never at them. 

Instead he stands there, eyes warm and face open, listens intently while they explain their reasoning. 

They’d talked about it for a while, gone over possible days that could work for them. The day Finn decided he had to leave, the day Rey met BB-8, the day they flew the Falcon off Jakku, the day they faced Kylo Ren on the crumbling surface of the Starkiller. The day Finn woke. The day Rey found Luke Skywalker. The day she brought him back to base. 

The day they settle on is less conspicuous. “Real birthdays aren’t special because of what day it is,” Finn had reasoned, “They become special because they’re yours.” 

“So you’ll share it? One day?” Poe asks after they’ve told him what they’ve agreed on. “Sure you don’t each want to pick your own?”

Finn and Rey look at each other and then back at Poe, speak almost in unison when they say:

“Yeah.”

“Why wouldn’t we?”

Poe’s grins wildly, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alright then, that just means there’ll be more to celebrate.”

-

The End

**Author's Note:**

> And then they make out. 
> 
> I couldn't fit it into the story but just know that it happens eventually.


End file.
